


Abducted Hope

by Quicksilver_Maiden



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26406637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilver_Maiden/pseuds/Quicksilver_Maiden
Summary: A woman is imprisoned with a Tauren by an Undead Shadow Priest.
Relationships: Female Human/Male Tauren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	Abducted Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: I was married to an abusive man for 9 years. Writing stories like this helps me cope when memories get rough. The stories are not analogous for my life, but the emotional responses are cathartic for me. It is not for the faint of heart, or for people who are sensitive to triggers. I never know quite how graphic I’ll be until after it’s written, so it’s going to be rated as explicit.   
> If you are in a situation that feels hopeless, get help. Walk across the whole damn country on foot if you have to, but get help. Leaving abuse is always the answer. Never go back, not even for your clothes, not even for your grandmother’s necklace. If you have to go back to get someone, bring the cops. Yes, bring the cops. Always

Saerah pulled her cloak tighter around herself, and continued to walk down the road. She had no idea where she was, but the jungle pressed her from all sides.

She thought dismally of Elwynn Forest, and then of Westfall. That was where she should be, she reflected, but her big brother insisted in his letter that she board a ship to Theramore, and head to him in the Barrens. He said he had something to show her, but that he couldn't come to Stormwind. He said she would be safe as long as she followed the road, and didn't attract attention to herself. She hadn't had enough money to finance a trip down to Booty Bay, and then across to Ratchet, though the ticket salesman had said it would be safer by far.

Saerah had no idea where she was, at that moment. She had thought the Barrens were somewhere West by Southwest of Theramore, but the roads were never straight and she wound up much too far south. Her ability to sense and avoid animals was the only thing that had saved her life, as she crept up the road. Her brother was a fighter, pure and simple. He lunged into combat with fury and strength on his side, and never looked back. She had wanted to be like him, as a child, but the trainers in Elwynn Forest had told her she was too lithe to be a warrior, and had trained her instead as a huntress.

At her side loped Ginta, a swift young coyote she had befriended on the banks of the river just into the Territory of Westfall. The wolf she had been assigned when she was training was growing old and lame from traipsing around the forest; she had released him near Goldshire, knowing the innkeeper there had a hidden soft spot for animals and would keep him fed long into his old age.  
Ginta whined, hungry, but Saerah could not allow him to go hunt, even alone. The creatures in the valley around them were far too large and powerful to risk a confrontation with.

The path she was following began to grow even narrower, and the forest encroached.

"How far should I continue?" she asked herself again. "He said it was vital, but what if I'm going the wrong way?"

A nasty, growling, gravelly voice from behind her caused Saerah to jump high in the air. Spinning around, her crossbow leaped into her hand.

"Lost, little one?" it ground out. She recoiled in fear from the figure of a Forsaken man with horrid stitching all over his face and a Power level far too high for her to guess.

She turned to run, but found herself frozen.

"Some children never do learn," she heard him chuckle. Tears pricked at her eyes, but her eyelids were frozen shut, and she was unable even to cry.

Ginta's yelp sounded in her left ear, and then she heard a low chanting behind her. Before she knew what was happening, darkness had claimed her mind.

Saerah awoke with a start. 'Ginta?' she called mentally. There was no reply.

A shiver passed over her, and she realized she was freezing. It was the middle of winter, and the air was probably somewhere between forty and fifty degrees, and very humid with a somewhat salty, metallic tang.

Her leather armour, her weapons, even her shoes had been taken from her. All that remained were her woolen under breeches that came barely passed her knees and a matching shirt. She shivered again, though the air in the room was mercifully still.

A strange sensation covered her then, a prickling, needling sensation that quickly escalated as a roaring inferno of pain blossomed over her entire skin. Several seconds later, she rose from the floor, gasping and blinking away tears as she finally took in her surroundings.

She was in some sort of cell made entirely of stone. There was no rug, nor even any straw on the ground to retain any heat. The space was fairly large for one person, but, she noticed with a start, she was not the only occupant.

In one corner, the corner behind where she had awoken, a gigantic sleeping figure lay curled up, back to her. She wasn't immediately sure what it was, except that it was covered in brick-red fur.  
A gravelly chuckle drew her eyes to the cell door, a steel monstrosity thicker than her hand was wide with bars set in the small window it sported.

The Forsaken man she had seen before her capture was cackling gleefully, though the sound he produced was more reminiscent of an ancient house groaning beneath a heavy layer of deep snow.  
"I wasn't sure I would find a new plaything so quickly, but I'm glad to see you're heartier than the last one. Stupid little blood elf, screamed her fool head off when I hit her with that spell."

"What are you doing? Why did you bring me here?" she asked accusingly, and with a note of stray panic filtering through her composure.

A nasty smile of rotten teeth stretched across his stitched face with a sound like dried leather. "I want to feel you," his dry husk of a voice dipped lower, and she withdrew from the door in revulsion. He laughed again, louder and more grating.

The figure in the corner sat bolt upright, eyes gleaming in terror and rage, and Saerah realized it was a Tauren.

The large Bull bellowed and leaped to the door, one massive hand pushing through the bars, only to be stopped at his forearm, the rest of his appendage too large to fit through. He grunted in anger and frustration, then turned to face her.

He bared his teeth to her, blowing a huffing breath through his nostrils, then turned his back to her and shuffled back to his corner. He turned and sat down, but resolutely ignored Saerah.  
"Time to play," came the voice from beyond the door, and Saerah saw the Tauren cover his horned head with both hands, obviously trying to protect himself. The Forsaken Shadow Priest's voice chanted lowly from the opening in the door, and Saerah tried to prepare herself for the pain she had experienced upon awakening, but it did not come.

Instead, the Tauren's massive hooves sounded upon the stone floor, much more loudly than they had before. She turned to look at him, and was startled to see a menacing, black smoke rising from his pupils to curl around his upright horns. He crossed the space between them in two large steps and grasped her around the shoulders. His hands were so large, they restrained her arms down to her elbows, and his arms were so long, her legs could not reach to kick his body. He subdued her as easily as she would have a naughty four-year-old.

Saerah glanced at the hideous priest, and was startled to see the horrid man standing stock-still, with acrid, black smoke rising from the glowing sockets where his eyes should have been. Her mind ground to a halt, and she looked back to the Tauren, realizing that his body was acting according to the wishes of the twisted, living corpse outside their cell. She screamed.

The Tauren forced her hands above her head, holding both in his massive left fist. With his right, he slid her under breeches down swiftly, leaving no doubts as to his intentions. 

When her pants hit the floor, a panic started in Saerah's belly, and spread out until she was twisting against the Tauren's grasp, flailing wildly as she tried to prevent the thing she knew was coming. He shoved her against the bare stone wall, her naked rump pressed against the too-cold surface, and pushed his enormous knee between her legs. His erection pressed painfully against her bare side, and fear surged through Saerah in a way she hadn't known was possible. The huge Tauren had dropped his own dirty trousers, and his hairless penis stood free of the furry sheath that normally protected it. It was as long, and as big around, as her forearm and fist combined. Saerah quailed at the sight, terror in her eyes.

There was no ceremony, no pretense at comfort. He lifted her bodily, ran his very long, course tongue wetly across her opening once, and impaled her on himself.

Saerah's screams rang in her own ears and reverberated off the stone walls in the cell. The barrier that had protected the entrance to her vaginal canal was torn and bleeding, and her cervix ached fiercely from being battered harder than any man of her own species could have accomplished. The Tauren's powerful thrusts became erratic, and his panting grunts grew louder. Saerah found that her horror slowed time somehow, and she looked up, only to see huge, hot tears spilling from the Tauren's eyes even as the smoke continued to billow slowly up. The Tauren tensed, and Saerah felt shame and anger wash through her as a hot, white substance filled her, and overflowed down the insides of her legs.

The Bull backed off from her, and she saw the smoky tendrils stop. He closed his eyes, turned away from her, replaced his pants, and returned to his corner. 

Saerah collapsed on the ground, sobbing. The Tauren's ears twitched in her direction, and he half-reached towards her, then stopped himself. She didn't notice.

She cried for many things, that evening. She cried for her innocence, she cried for her brother, knowing he awaited her, she cried for her predicament, she cried for Ginta, not knowing where he was or how injured he was. 

Saerah realized she had been crying for a long time, and she was unbearably cold. As she rose, the crust of dried liquid on her legs cracked, and the damp, squishy feeling that lingered between her legs served only to amplify the deep, throbbing pains there. She put her pants back on, having nothing with which to clean herself, and stood shivering in the frigid air as her breath misted before her. The Tauren's eyes were turned furtively toward her, and she gasped, blanching, before she saw the hurt and guilt in his eyes.

Her mind and body protesting, she spoke to him. "He controls you, doesn't he? He says that spell, and uses you to do whatever he wants."

The Tauren's eyes bored into hers, the tiniest flicker of hope dashing through them, before he responded slowly, as though unfamiliar with the language and testing his words.

"I would not bring you harm willingly, and I am not a beast, enslaved by lust."

Saerah remembered the Shadow Priest's words, referring to a Blood Elf, and shuddered. "How long have you been here?" 

"That is unknown. Daylight does not reach us here, but," he paused, reluctant, "It has been three hot seasons and four cold seasons since I was imprisoned here, and you are the fifth female he has imprisoned with me. I don't know if there were others before I came."

"Fifth?" her voice qualed. "What happened to the others?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"They died," he admitted heavily. "Exposure, mostly. They didn't do much but cry and sit in the corner, shivering or sweating with the season. None of them talked to me, much." He looked at her sharply, then, as if to ask why she broke the patterns of her predecessors. 

Saerah's pain and indignation made her move stiffly as she swung her arms, trying to generate any scrap of warmth while she regarded the Tauren before her.

"Do you prefer silence?" she asked finally, abandoning pretense and wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered.

"I have spoken long and joyously with my family in Mulgore, but not since I was brought here." 

Saerah quirked her lips, the best attempt at a smile she could muster, and offered, "I don't know how long I'll make it here, but I'll talk to you while I can. It's no more your fault that you're here than it is mine that I am." 

Deeply moved, the Tauren came swiftly to his hooves and bowed. "I am Uktengga, and as long as I am myself, you shall have my friendship."

"Uktengga, I am Saerah," Tears formed in her eyes then, and there were several reasons for them. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm behaving this way..." 

Uktengga crossed to her and wrapped his massive frame around her in the gentlest, most comforting embrace Saerah had felt in years. Her tears came harder, wracking her frame with sobs as she clutched him. He allowed her to spend her energy on that, running his great left hand repeatedly from the top of her head to her lower back. He knew from experience that no words would ever be enough. 

When, after a long time, she had quieted, he uttered the only thing he could. "I'm so sorry..." 

Tears again clouded her vision, but the sobs did not return, and she was able to reply, "It's not your fault. I should have heeded my trainer and sought out Adrano." 

"I do not know this person, is he a healer?" 

"No, well, he's a hermit in Elwynn Forest. He's very hard to find unless you've been given directions. He...well, he...," her voice hitched intermittently with shallow sobs, "he offers his services to the female recruits. The officers are aware that not all rape can be prevented, and so Adrano is willing to relieve a girl of her virginity so that if... it happens..." she broke down into sobs again, and Uktengga gathered her in his arms. His own tears flowed forth, and soon he was crying hard against the woman in his arms.  
"I am so sorry," he managed again between his great, heaving sobs. "I would never have taken that from you. I would never have forced you..." A gentle hand on the side of his muzzle stopped him.  
"You've been raped by that Priest just as surely as I have. My anger is at him. I saw, when he was controlling you. You were crying. You've been here so long..." 

Uktengga crushed her against him, unable to express himself after such a long time of being hated. 

A loud, creaking door sounded from the hallway outside of their cell, and Uktengga's arms tightened around Saerah.

"He's coming back. He's going... I'm going to.." 

Saerah's voice cut through his thoughts, "Just, hold me afterwards," she choked. He nodded, and released her before the Priest came into view. 

"I hope you've been getting acquainted. Time to play..."

He chanted quickly, and the unnatural black smoke began to rise from his pupils, and a moment later from Uktengga's. The massive Bull rose, grasped her roughly, and discarded both articles of her clothing quickly. Saerah struggled, trying to pull away, but she did not attempt to injure the Tauren above her.

His long, rough tongue laved at her breasts, her arms again trapped above her as he pinned her to the floor with his weight, one knee between her legs. Abruptly, he flipped her onto her hands and knees and entered her.

Saerah screamed, and then cut herself off as he set a gruelling pace. Her most secret of places was raw and painful as the assault continued. As she lost the battle against her whimpers, the thrusts of the Priest-controlled Tauren above her became more urgent. He released within her, and she shuddered both in pain and in relief that it was over. 

"Until next time, kiddies," chortled the Priest as he left.

Uktengga withdrew himself gently, but a cry of pain still sounded from the woman below him. He picked her up, cradling her against the warm, soft fur on his chest, and rocked her back and forth as she cried. His knees protested their contact with the stone, but he ignored them as a small penance in comparison to all the harm he had been forced to visit on the women who had shared his cell. 

He looked at the girl in his arms, by far the youngest of his cell mates, and a nasty thought occurred to him. 

"How old are you, Saerah?" he asked. "Are you old enough to marry?"

He was relieved when she nodded. "I had a birthday last month. I'm of-age in Stormwind."

Uktengga's brow fell, she was too young in his opinion, but if her culture had recognized her as an adult, then he would try to put it from his mind. He stood ponderously, still clutching Saerah in his arms, and moved to his customary corner, close to the door so as to be more difficult to see. He sat and arranged the woman-child in his lap. He had known her less than a day, and already his heart moved whenever he heard her voice. He told her as much, and she nuzzled her head under his chin, burying her nose in his fur despite the strong scent he carried. 

"If we were to escape, where would you go?" she asked suddenly. 

He thought about that for several seconds. "I would go home, to Mulgore, for a time. I would need the guidance of my elders to heal and atone for all that has happened. After that... I don't know," he finished honestly. 

"My brother had asked me to meet him in the Southern Barrens, but I think I went too far south, maybe. I ended up in a jungle with huge reptiles everywhere." 

"Un'goro Crater?" he asked, astonished. "I am not yet powerful enough to survive that place, how did you manage to get there, so inexperienced? The journey alone should have been enough to kill you." 

Saerah nodded. "I thought as much, but I was so lost i didn't know where to turn or how to go back.” It was strange to sit there, talking as though nothing horrible had happened between them. "Would it be alright if I wrote to you? When we get out of here, I mean?"

Uktengga's hands played with Saerah's long black hair and she stroked her fingers through the fur on his chest. 

"I would be honored to continue our friendship. In fact," he paused, as if considering, "If you ever have urgent need of me, come to the pass between the Barrens and Mulgore. Put your hands on the ground in front of you, and say to the guards there 'Uktengga hana Tengata.' Hana means 'son of' and they'll be able to find me from that description." 

Saerah stretched her arms around his chest as far as they would go, and said woefully, "I'm afraid that there is no place you could do the same, but I'll not be going back to an Alliance city, anyway. My brother lives in the Southern Barrens, but I don't know what part. I think, once I find him, I'll be staying a while."

Saerah fought back the tears that had consumed her for so much of the day. Had she really only been in the cell a single day? "If only we weren't from two separate... factions, I think we.. Oh I don't know. I'm so hurt and confused I don't know what to say anymore. Oh, Uktengga, what do I do now?"

"Now, sleep. Recover yourself before tomorrow. The Undead do not sleep, and he will return whenever he feels the desire. If we ever get out of here, I'll help you find your brother. The Southern Barrens is no place for you to go traipsing by yourself." 

Saerah nuzzled into his fur, finding comfort in the strong scent there. It was nothing like a cow. The closest comparison she could make was a night saber she had once come across with its owner in Goldshire, combined with an earthy, mushroomy smell. The thought of Uktengga in Goldshire made her smile, then drop her jaw in terror. They would kill him just for appearing there. She gripped him as that fear took hold, and he shushed her, misunderstanding. She held onto him tighter, grateful that he could not read her mind as a few more tears fell into his soft pelt. She fell into sleep as he rubbed her back with gentle strokes, and soon he slumbered deeply as well. 

Two weeks passed, though neither Saerah nor Uktengga knew exactly how long it had been. The Priest visited at whatever hour he felt the need, but at least twice every day as far as they could tell. His visits were usually brief, but left lasting marks on the cell's occupants. 

One day, Saerah awoke to a crushing grip from Uktengga, and looked up to see the black smoke already rising from his normally sea-grey eyes. For the first time, his voice rang out during the Priest's control. 

"You've lasted longer than I expected." His voice sounded hollow, as though echoing from the other side of a long corridor. "I think it's time to see just how much you can handle." 

Saerah went white with fear, as she was divested of her clothing roughly, causing the shirt to rip nearly in two. She was shoved roughly to the ground on all fours, and Uktengga's foot long penis entered her brutally. He pounded into her for a few minutes while she clenched her teeth with silent tears streaming down her face. Then, he did something wholly unexpected. He withdrew, placed his hands on her rump, pulling it wide, and plunged himself into her anus. 

Blinding pain flashed through Saerah, and she fought desperately to free herself. She realized she was screaming only when she had to draw breath in order to continue. Hot tears streamed down her face, and she called desperately for the only solid thing in her new, hellish world. 

"Uktengga!" she screamed, begging. The wild thrusting behind her slowed momentarily, but then began again with renewed vigor. He released almost at once, and withdrew roughly before the smoke from his eyes dissipated. 

"Be back soon, kiddies," came the voice of the departing Priest, and Saerah blanched, her limbs shaking beneath her on the frigid stone. 

Uktengga reached out and placed his hand on her back, and she flinched involuntarily at the contact. He pulled away as though burned, and retreated into his corner. 

Saerah laid down and curled into a ball. The pain was excruciating, and she could not stop the whimpers that accompanied her sobs. Eventually, she stopped crying and just lay on the floor, stark naked, oblivious to the cold or the fact that she no longer felt Uktengga's eyes on her back. 

She drifted in and out of consciousness on waves of pain for an hour before the door in the corridor squeaked and the Priest's horrid face reappeared in the window. 

"Let's go, kiddies. Time to play." 

Saerah bolted to the far side of the room, terror in her eyes, as Uktengga's eyes began to smoke. His powerful haunches gathered, and he sprang, knocking the wind from Saerah as they slammed into the wall. Her head spun and stars sparked in her vision as he began. 

Usually, the Priest took what he wanted and left. Usually, he didn't cause Uktengga to leave bruises, or at least not many. Usually, she was treated as nothing more than a slightly fragile object to be used and discarded. 

This time, the sadistic corpse seemed to enjoy flexing Uktengga's massive muscles. Everywhere he touched he left huge, three-fingered hand prints in his wake. He scratched his wide, flat nails down her sides, tearing long, shallow ribbons of flesh from her body. He bit deeply into her right shoulder, and clung there as he finally released, buried deep inside of her. The priest relinquished his hold on Uktengga then, with his teeth and softening member still buried within Saerah's tender flesh. Uktengga's salty tears washed over her shoulder as he carefully withdrew his teeth, trying not to slice her further with his pointed fangs. She stood beneath him, pliable and quiescent. He bent his knees a few more inches and slipped himself out of her, then wrapped his arms around her and wept. 

After a few minutes he came to his senses and rearranged their positions, placing her into his lap in their corner. He pressed his palms to her sides gently but firmly to staunch the bleeding, and then began to pray, singing lowly in the language of his ancestors with a voice like velvet steel. 

Slowly, Saerah resurfaced. She found herself sitting in Uktengga's lap, facing out with his hands still clamped over the wounds on her sides. His strong, deep voice reverberated softly in a language she had never heard before. 

Uktengga prayed for freedom and healing for the woman in his arms. He concentrated only on that, and let the words flow from him, not caring if they rhymed or fit the tempo he set. He poured his heart into song, and in so doing came to a realization. He found his heart completely consumed by love for Saerah. The only wish he had was for her to leave the confines of the cell they shared, and live without the pain she had endured at his hands. 

Saerah could feel the passion in the song of Uktengga, and savored it like the choicest of wines. He danced in her mind, and always she danced with him. She never wanted to be away from him, and yet she knew that there were precious few places that would allow the deep friendship and dependence she had for him. 

Saerah had been an odd young girl. While her peers whispered and hoped upon the young men in Elwynn Forest, she had always found them lacking. They were never enough, and she had never known why, but the raw emotion displayed shamelessly by Uktengga was stirring something latent in her heart. She curled her fingers in the pelt on his forearms and he tensed. 

"I... thought you didn't want my friendship any longer." 

Saerah shook her head. "I do, Uktengga. I... Oh, I do." She wasn't sure how to acquaint him with her musings, but as she turned in his lap, wincing, she came face-to-face with his large, expressive eyes. She blinked, and found she wanted to be closer to Uktengga, though already in his lap. She reached up slightly, took the sides of his muzzle in each hand, and pressed her lips softly to his. 

He did not have the ability to purse his lips like a human, but they were soft and surprisingly supple against her own. He responded to her soundless plea, and wrapped his arms around her, his left behind her head and his right around her hips as he moved his mouth against hers. 

"Isn't that sweet," the Priest's icy words were like sleet in Saerah's veins. "I'd like to play, if you're feeling that frisky," the all-too-familiar incantation flowed from beyond the door, and Saerah was already crying. 

Uktengga's sharp front teeth nipped at her lips, drawing blood as she struggled in vain to break his hold. She was still nude, and her sides were starting to bleed sluggishly through the flimsy, still-forming scabs. 

His penis slid smoothly from its sheath, and he lifted her, her arms pinned to her sides, and slid inside. 

Saerah's abused body protested every shift, and she felt the darkness of her last encounter encroaching, but Uktengga's earlier words, wondering if she would reject him, caused her to force herself to remain conscious. Despite her pain and the ordeal she was undergoing, she felt the need to reassure him.

"I know it's him, Uktengga. There's nothing he can do to make me hate you," there were tears in her eyes and her teeth were clenched in pain, but she saw his tears grow larger and more frequent, the only control he had while the Priest maintained his mental hold. 

The Priest forced Uktengga to thrust brutally up into the woman on his lap, and Saerah saw the tell-tale tensing of the Tauren's massive frame and heard his ragged breathing. She closed her eyes, flinching away from what she knew was coming. 

All at once, everything stilled. Saerah looked at Uktengga's face and saw him clenching his jaw in concentration, the greasy black smoke gone from his eyes. She shifted minutely, preparing to get up, and heard a 2 he lifted her slowly, until he came out with a loud, squelching pop. He lifted her quickly then, cradling her against his chest with her legs draped over one arm. His breathing was still strained, and he quivered beneath her. 

The Priest's cackling laughter followed him down the hall to the unseen door, punctuated by a resounding thud. 

Saerah was moved by the effort she saw on the huge Tauren's face, and trying to comfort him, she began running her fingers through the longer fur and mane at the base of his hunched neck. 

His voice was pleading as he managed to say, "Please stop." She was taken aback, but complied, placing her hand in her lap as she lay, nearly prone, in his arms.

"I'm sorry, that was... harder than I expected," he said after a few minutes. 

"Are you alright?" Saerah asked him.

Uktengga looked down at her, and at all the bruises she still bore, at the wounds on her sides, the tiny cuts over her lips, and the deep puncture marks on her shoulder. "I won't be carrying scars, Saerah. I'll be fine. I told you before, I am not a slave to lust. It will soon pass." 

Saerah fought the urge to look down and behind herself, to where his impressive penis stood, still erect and slightly slick. 

She contented herself with leaning her cheek on his massive shoulder, breathing in his heavy, slightly musky scent and dreaming of traveling with him through the mysterious lands of the Southern Barrens. 

Several more minutes passed, and Saerah had drifted unintentionally into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. It was not to last, however. 

"I see you didn't finish playing. Mind if I do?" The horrid voice of the priest drifted to the ears of Uktengga, and he realized that the sadistic man had never left the hallway. The chant began as always, but Uktengga's rage boiled beyond his ability to stay still, and he rolled, leaned back, and rammed the steel door with both of his massive hooves. 

It did no damage beyond scratching the surface, but the resounding 'KLANG' interrupted the Priest's concentration and he grabbed his ears, momentarily thrown into sensory overload. Saerah awoke from the jolt and the noise, and was upset from Uktengga's chest. She felt a thrill of hatred flow through her at the sight of the priest, but he was staggering and holding his head. 

She leaped to the door, grabbing his head, and pulled it through the small opening of the door's window. He brought his hands up and grasped the bars, but could not reach her. There was no room left, with his head there. 

The priest, now regaining control of himself, was stronger than her by far, but Uktengga was there in an instant. He grasped the priest's head with both of his massive hands, and tugged with all of his strength. 

There was a sickening crack, followed by the sound of tearing flesh, and the Priest's head came clean off of his body. 

Saerah grabbed onto the collar of his robes before the body fell away, but it was standing passively against the door. 

"And what do you think you've accomplished?" came the Priest's muffled voice from inside Uktengga's crushing grip. 

"You think someone else is going to feed you?" 

Saerah was feeling blindly along the priest's robes, her right arm out the window to the shoulder. 

"Got it!" she exclaimed softly, pulling her hand out of a pocket, clutched around a large, steel key. 

"You put that back, you bitch!" screamed the Priest. Uktengga removed him of his jaw. 

Saerah searched, running her hand over the outside of the door, until she found the key hole. In an instant, the door swung inside and the priest's body stumbled at the loss of support. 

Saerah inhaled the air in the corridor. It was fairly short; the back wall was five feet to her right, the door out was ten to her left. There were no other doors.

She grabbed her clothes, the shirt turned backwards so the large rend wouldn't reveal too much, and saw that Uktengga had donned his breeches.

"What about him?" he asked, dangling the priest's head by his thin scrap of hair.

Though he had no jaw, and his tongue hung like a grotesque tie, the priest responded in his normal voice, "There's no way to kill me, I'm already dead."

In a tone of feral animosity, Saerah surprised Uktengga with her answer, "Bullshit, fucker. Fire will reduce you to lifeless ashes, just like anyone else."

When his surprise had passed, Uktengga smiled nastily at the jawless head and threw the body over his other shoulder. "Let's go," he said. "Another minute in here and I might just butt my head into the wall."

The door leading out appeared to be solid steel, with no window, but wasn't locked, and the metal turned out only to be about half a centimeter thick, with wood on the other side. When they had passed through it, they found themselves in another corridor. This one also had a single door at the far end, but also two others to the right on the same wall as the one they had come through. Saerah looked at the doors, and began to tremble.

"We have to check. You know we have to check," Uktengga's voice sounded loud and echoing beside her. She nodded, pushing the door open.

She heard a gasp from in the corridor, and wanted to relieve the fear she knew would accompany the sound of the door.

"Hello?" she called. There was some rustling, and a large, green face appeared at the window on a door exactly the same as the one in the other corridor.

Uktengga held up the snarling face of the priest, and the orc's face twisted into an evil grin.

"You should see this, woman."

A human woman's head replaced the orc's, and Saerah noticed the filthy, matted blonde hair on her head and wondered what her own must look like.

"Well, don't just stand there, girl. Unlock this godawful cell and let's get out of here."

Saerah blinked, coming out of her musings, and unlocked the door.

The pair stepped from the cell, both entirely nude. Saerah noticed at once that the human woman was pregnant, and the male orc seemed protective of, though not affectionate for, her.

The priest's continued insults fell on deaf ears as the four impromptu companions moved on to the last of the interior doors.

his door led not to a hallway, but to a living space. The mage's voice escalated, shouting insults at them for invading his personal quarters. Uktengga placed the head by the fireplace and began to assemble kindling.

His tongue the only muscle left to him, the priest began to wave it pointlessly about, attempting some form of escape, but Uktengga stuffed the body into the fireplace along with the bottom jaw and set the lot on fire.

"What's your name, girl?" asked the woman, standing with her hands on her hips despite her nudity.

"Saerah, you?"

"I'm Emmalina, and this is Gornk."

"Ukte," said Uktengga, raising one arm briefly as he stoked the fire to life.

"Here, woman. You're letting the brat get cold," said Gornk.

"Gee, thanks, Gornk. I'm so glad you care," but she wore a sad sort of a smile as she accepted the curtain that had hung over a huge picture of Lordaeron's glory days. "Toga style, nice," was her only other comment.

Gornk took the other hanging from the large picture, and Saerah saw a smaller one in the corner and fashioned a short cape for Uktengga, and one for herself.

There was a small amount of cheese and half a loaf of bread on a shelf, and the four quickly divided and devoured it. Saerah noticed Gornk discreetly place part of his share in Emmalina's lap, who smiled sadly again and tried to catch his eye. He was resolutely ignoring her efforts, chewing and inspecting the tie on his toga.

When the fire had burned low, the small group headed out, leaving the head of the priest to slow-roast on the red coals of his own ashes.

The moon was rising over a frigid sea as the door swung wide. The clouds floated lazily above and before them, and they realized their dilemma. They stood on a sloping piece of ground a few feet above a calm sea, with sheer mountains at their back and no beach to either side. They would have no choice but to swim, and no one knew whether right or left would be wiser.

"Well, I say we just head north and keep going. We're obviously on the Western shores of Kalimdor judging by the moon, so we'll eventually reach an outpost."

Uktengga's great head swung back and forth. "We won't be well off if we rove through Darkshore. A Horde outpost will be more accepting of two unarmed human women than an Alliance fortification would of you and I, Gornk."

Emmalina placed her hand on Gornk's arm to forestall his objection, and said firmly, "He's right, and I'm too cold to go any farther north. It might harm the child."

Gornk's jaw worked, but he finally nodded. "I assume everyone can swim?"

Saerah nodded, though she seemed less than confident. Uktengga's heavy hand came to rest softly over her shoulder, giving warmth and comfort without words. She turned her face upwards, and her sparkling eyes met his for a moment, and she relaxed. His pupils dilated and he snorted softly. "Let's be off," his deep voice intoned, and they all slid into the water.

The sea was a few degrees warmer than the air, but still very cold as they made their way. Saerah kept pace with the others, breathing heavily and splashing more than was wise in her efforts.

South turned out to be the correct choice, as they had been swimming for only twenty minutes when they came around a large outcropping of sheer rock and saw a small hut-like building perched on a much lower cliff. As they continued for a few more minutes, a long pier came into view as well.

"I know where we are," said Uktengga. "That's Shadowprey Village. We're in the Desolace."

"Good," said Gornk. "We should be able to get a couple of Wind Riders to Orgrimmar, and be done with this place."

"They can't," Uktengga pointed to the women, "and we have no money to fly with anyway, and nothing to sell that would buy us a meal, much less a wind rider."

At that moment, Emmalina's stomach gave a mighty attempt to drown out the sea, and nearly succeeded.

"Perhaps we'd better find a way to afford a meal," conceded Gornk.

A gasp from Saerah had everyone looking at her. "There's something in the water, black and white with horns on its head."

"Orcas," said Uktengga. "Steer clear of them, they'll eat you if they get the chance... wait." A look of stern contemplation crossed his face. "Gornk, where were you when you were captured?"

"I was delivering a missive to Silithus, why?"

"I was on duty in the Thousand Needles. Do you think we could kill that orca unarmed?"

"I.. suppose we could try. Why, though?"

"Because that's enough meat for this whole village, and if we kill it, we may get some clothes and supplies by providing a feast. There aren't a lot of animals to kill around here, it's all undead, centaurs, drysnap, and demons. They have to buy their meat, which makes it expensive."

Gornk sighed gustily, and said, "It might help me to warm up. Let's go, if we're going."

Uktengga and Gornk swam out to head the orca off as it made lazy circles in the moonlit bay. As they got close to the sea-mammal, it saw a chance for an easy meal and rounded on Gornk. He grabbed the massive horns atop the beast's head, and drove his knees into its snout. Uktengga took little time as he grasped one flipper and proceeded to hack it off with a few short kicks from his sharp hooves. The beast's high-pitched squeals were barely noticed above the water.

With the creature partially disabled, Uktengga took hold of the second horn on the left side of its head, and began pummeling the orca with his hooves. Gornk let go and called up the forces of nature to attack the orca and protect Uktengga.

Despite their armorless, weaponless attack, the pair had soon slain the creature, and were using the incoming tide to help them get it to shore. The dawn rose, and the villagers awoke to an orc they had never seen before clothed in a worn old red curtain, and a Tauren who hadn't been there in over five years clad in thin breeches and a cape of the same red material.

"Ukte, what on Azeroth have you gotten yourself into?" asked Aboda, the Stable master.

"A lot, old friend, and much of it against my will and better judgment, but it is over now."

"Well, how about dinner at my home for both of you and let's hear all about it?"

"I'm afraid it's not just our story, and I do still have a dilemma or two to work out. Is Taiga Wisemane around?"

"Wise... sure, but..."

"I'll need to speak with him, as soon as possible. Three lives may hang in the balance."

"I thought you said your trials were ended..."

"The blades have stopped falling, old friend, but the wounds are still healing. Right now, I need that conference."

"He should be near his hut, just up the hill."

"Gornk, if you'll make sure they don't freeze..?"

The orc nodded at Uktengga and went toward the dock as the Tauren made his way to the hill.

"Honorable Wisemane, I am in need of your advice."

"Speak, young Ukte, though not so young as last I saw you."

"Myself and the orc have recently escaped imprisonment by an undead Shadow Priest, and we freed two human women with us. One is heavily pregnant, and I do not have coin to buy silence or shelter. We have slain an orca to trade its meat for supplies, but I fear that it may not be enough."

Wisemane stared into the eyes of the younger bull. "I can see your dilemma. Bring the women to my hut, and I will shelter them for the night. Tomorrow, I will speak with the Wind Rider Master, and see if I can arrange for them to reach neutral ground."

Uktengga saluted, glad to have some help.

"Ukte, I must warn you, do not let any of the villagers see you bring them, if you can avoid it." Uktengga nodded and left.

Uktengga found Gornk and the girls under the buildings' stilts, next to the sea and practically hanging over the precipice. He led them farther along, passing several more buildings before they reached the hut of Taiga Wisemane.

The older bull was not there yet, and Uktengga left the bedraggled group there, traveling back the way he had come to avoid detection.

The butcher and his sons had made short work of the orca, and divided it up into ten portions, as asked.

"Give one to the villagers for the meal this evening. I will keep one and preserve it for our journey. The other eight are up for sale."

The butcher nodded. "I'll buy six of them, at 50 gold pieces each, and the innkeep wants the rest at the same price."

It was an extremely small amount of gold for almost five thousand pounds of meat, but it was much more than Uktengga had expected from the poor folk of the village. He gave the orc his thanks, and took the offered gold.

Uktengga looked to the hill on the northern slope of the town, to where Taiga Wisemane still stood in conversation with a travelling troll. He thought back to when he had last visited this tiny village, and his great heart hurt in his massive chest.

The day passed slowly for the group huddled in Wisemane's hut, and the night even more so. Though they cooked whale steaks and preserved the rest, it did nothing to prevent each member of the small group from lapsing into deep thought.

At dusk, Taiga returned to the hut and the women curled up back-to-back away from the men for the sake of appearances.

Despite the woolen blanket over her, Saerah found herself cold without Uktengga's massive, furry arms around her and his chest pressed warmly against her whole front side. When everything around was quiet, she allowed herself a few broken sniffles of regret before she drifted off.

Uktengga's hand tightened in the fur on his chest, wanting to ease her sorrow, and yet not sure, now that they were no longer trapped alone, if she would welcome his companionship.

Before dawn broke across the sky, Wisemane was up, and true to his word he was in conversation with Thalon, the wind rider master who, in a rare show of concern, left his post and came to Taiga's hut. He looked at the women, and then at Gornk and Uktengga.

"Whose child does this woman carry?"

"Mine," said Gornk resignedly.

"Then she may fly with you wherever you wish to go," said Thalon.

"What about the younger one?" asked Wisemane.

"Unfortunately, the laws are very clear. I cannot transport her unless she is either a member of the Earthen Ring, Cenarion Circle, or some other such group, and only then if she is on their official business; or if she is the mate of a Hordesman and traveling in his company, or if she has an insignia from the Warchief himself."

Gornk was quietly translating for the women, and Emmalina spoke out, "You can't even get her to Ratchet?" she asked.

"No, little woman," answered Thalon when her words had been translated for him. "I have vowed to uphold the laws of the Horde as part of my duties."

"You should go," said Saerah to Emmalina. "You'll put your child in danger if you try to cross overland."

Emmalina looked to Gornk, who had his face turned away, and said, "I'll go. I know he wants to see his wife and children, and I need to figure out where to go."

"My brother lives in the Southern Barrens, and that's where I'm going. Drop me a note if you need a place to stay for a while."

Emmalina nodded, and stood laboriously to her feet. She nodded to Gornk, and Uktengga placed 100 gold in each of their hands.

"I know it isn't much, but it should help."

Gornk promptly gave over half of his to Emmalina, and they followed Thalon to the dock for their ride to Orgrimmar.

"What will the two of you do?" asked Wisemane when they were alone.

"We will have to make the journey overland. She has a brother in the Barrens, and I have promised to take her there if I can."

"You may take one of my Kodo, if you will leave her at the Crossroads. I will be flying there briefly next month on a personal matter, and can bring her home then."

Uktengga grasped the forearm of the other Tauren, gratitude in his large, grey eyes.

"Do not thank me yet, Ukte. Your journey is long, and if it takes more than a month you will have to bring the Kodo back yourself."

"Even so, it is more than I had expected. I will make sure your beast is returned whole and hearty."

Saerah found herself watching the two bulls converse. She was fascinated by the cadence of their language, wishing she could understand them. All she could tell was that Uktengga was pleased and grateful, so she assumed something good was happening.

Uktengga turned to her and said, "We must go quickly. Wisemane will meet us on the edge of town with supplies, but we need to be away before the people here begin to rise for the day."

Saerah nodded. "I'll follow you."

They stole around the backs of the buildings until they reached the outskirts of town, then walked along the path for precisely a quarter-mile before seeking cover.

"Thanks for sticking with me, Uktengga. I don't think I'd have made it if you weren't with me."

He smiled for a moment, then sobered. "We haven't made it yet, saerah. There's a lot of wild country between us and the Barrens, and we don't know where, exactly, your brother is once we get there."

"Still, you didn't have to, and I'll be glad to spend some time..." she blushed scarlet, "I mean..."

He laughed gently at her stumbling explanation, and ran his large right hand through her hair. "I know what you mean, I think. And yes, it will be good to be friends in the open air."

That particular phrase had them both secretly disappointed, and it was a relief when Wisemane arrived within a quarter of an hour. He was leading a large, brown-furred female Kodo with several packs arranged on her back, and he dropped her off with a minimum of conversation, knowing that speed was of the essence.

Uktengga mounted the Kodo, and helped Saerah up behind him. She moved closer, mindful not to sit on his tail, and gripped him tighter than necessary, seeking his warmth in the frigid temperatures. She laced her fingers into the fur on his waist, able to feel his warm skin though not see it, and he jumped slightly at the feel of her freezing hands.

"You're cold again," he accused, and reached into a few of the packs, searching until he found a thick woolen blanket. "Come here," he said more gently, and maneuvered her into his lap, wrapping the blanket around her and placing her side-saddle.

“There's no reason to let yourself be cold, anymore. We have a few items of clothing, but we need to get farther away before we stop to don them. Ride here, for now, and we'll stop when we find a secluded spot."

Saerah snuggled herself into his lap, her nose turned into his fur as a contented, breathy sigh escaped her. Uktengga clicked his tongue at the great beast that bore them, his heart considerably lighter what with her reaction to being ensconced in his embrace now that it was no longer strictly necessary.

They rode for several hours, trying to remain surreptitious as they stuck to the path.

An hour after noon, Saerah found herself unable to continue without a break.

“We have to stop, just for a minute, please,” she finally said. Uktengga veered off to where a tiny cluster of rocks sat, and helped her down. She ran to the other side of the rocks and dropped her trousers.

When she came back, Uktengga had opened one of the packs and pulled out the clothes Wisemane had bought with Uktengga’s money.

“I hope this fits. Wisemane said it was for a young troll girl, and was the closest thing he could get.”

The dress came just past her knees, and was made of form-fitting doeskin. It had green embroidery, and no sleeves. A pair of high, soft boots meant for a Blood Elf accompanied the dress, along with a woolen cloak to protect her against the chill air.

Uktengga stripped off his cape and ragged trousers, stuffing them roughly in the pack as he donned a loincloth, a leather under-tunic, and then a set of reasonably well-made chainmail that fit him rather nicely. A large, two-handed axe and a pair of leather gloves completed his gear.

Saerah had watched him change, oddly entranced though she had seen him nude often enough. She caught herself and looked to her own clothing, stripping and changing as quickly as possible as he pulled on his gloves.

Uktengga glanced at Saerah as she removed her makeshift cloak, then turned his attention to inspecting his axe with difficulty.

Saerah retained her old under breeches, not having been provided with any others, and feeling thankful that her prolonged swim in the ocean had left them smelling only of sea salt.

As they resumed traveling, Uktengga considered their options for a meal. A great deal of the whale’s meat had been packed with layers of lime and rock salt around it to preserve it but Uktengga was unsure of offering it to Saerah as it was. His people thought of raw meat much as one thinks of undyed cotton clothing- it may not be ideal, but it’s a darn sight better than nothing. Humans, though, were known for their unwillingness to partake of raw meat, and among Tauren, Orcs, and Trolls it was thought of as a singular peculiarity.

He looked at her for a moment, considering how well she had reacted to him despite the situation, and decided to let her make the choice.

“Saerah, I know you’ve got to be as hungry as I am, but we really can’t afford to stop until evening and… to tell you the truth I’m not sure how rare you can stand to eat whale meat.”

She looked at him, slightly confused, then realization dawned. “You’re going to eat it raw, aren’t you?”

He had the good sense to look abashed, but nodded.

She shrugged. “I’ll try it. My mother always said it would be a nasty thing to do, but I think I could stomach almost anything at this point, I’m so hungry.”

Uktengga nodded, and reached into the pack strapped just behind his right leg. He pulled out an oil skin, one of 20 that were crammed into that pack alone, and opened it to reveal over a dozen pounds of meat.

Saerah took a cautious bite, then lit into the thin slices of meat for several minutes before she spoke again.

“I don’t know if I was just very hungry or if the lime makes that much of a difference, but I thought that was pretty good.”

Uktengga nodded and hummed, his mouth much too full to answer, and she giggled, hugging him round the middle and missing the feel of his fur on her cheek.

Their journey had taken them past wicked centaurs and thunderlizards whose size alone had Saerah clutching Uktengga and peeking around his arms in awe.

By dusk, they had reached the edge of a great wood, and they ducked under the cover of the trees to make camp.

Uktengga made a blind for the fire with several large stones, and laid out their bedrolls on either side of it. Saerah gathered the deadfall branches she could find, and speared a few thin slices of meat on a stick and drove it into the ground near the fire to roast.

As the smell of the whale’s meat permeated the air, her stomach clenched and she darted from the fire, retching heartily behind the trunk of a nearby tree.

Uktengga went to her, and she stood shakily to her feet, wiping her mouth with a handful of grass.

“I don’t know if raw is a good idea, for me,” she said softly, then promptly threw up again.

For several minutes her stomach purged itself, and she heaved long after there was nothing more for her to throw up.

Exhausted, she finally got up from all fours, helped by the gentle hands of Uktengga, and went back to camp.

The fire was still going, and the meat was cooked through, but Saerah didn’t feel like eating at that moment. She was freezing, still nauseated, and shaking with exhaustion from vomiting.

“I just want to fall asleep for a week,” she said. “I’ve never thrown up that hard.”

Uktengga pulled back the blanket over her sleeping roll, and guided her into it.

“Sleep, and I’ll make sure there is enough cooked meat for you for a few days…” He started to say something else, “I l…” but stopped, and huffed a large breath. “Just rest,” he finished and covered her warmly.

“You’ll what, Teng?”

Uktengga smiled softly at the nickname, “Nothing, now sleep. We still have far to go.”

By morning, Saerah felt much better as she lay in her blankets, warm and drowsy, but when she felt nature call her and she rose, a fresh bout of nausea washed over her. She threw up bile all over the ground, narrowly missing both her bed roll and the hand she had outstretched to catch herself.

Uktengga kneeled behind and to her right, his concern as evident as his helplessness.

“Ug, I can still taste the lime, only it’s putrid,” groaned Saerah. “I wish I had known my mother meant it would literally make me sick to eat raw meat.”

Uktengga placed one massive hand on her back, “I can understand, now, why your people avoid it. I had no idea it would do this to you, or I would not have given it to you. We should have stopped to cook it.”

“I know we’re in a hurry, but I’m afraid that if I move I’ll be sick again. Can we wait a few minutes before we start the day?”

Uktengga shook his great head, “We are not travelling today. Go back to sleep, and I’ll get some food for you. We passed a sign for a goblin merchant not far back, yesterday.”

“Teng, no, we don’t have enough money as it is. The whale’s meat will be fine, so long as it’s been cooked. Come on, I’ll be fine, let’s just…”

Uktengga’s enormous forefinger covered her mouth and chin. “You need bread to settle your stomach, and you let me worry about money. Now, I’m leaving the kodo here and the fire’s hot, so animals should leave you alone. I won’t be more than an hour,” he brushed his lips over her forehead then, not sure if she would understand had he used his nose as his people were wont to do, and strode away.

Saerah’s eyes brimmed as she watched Uktengga walk away. The feelings he evoked when his lips touched her skin were anything but negative, and she found herself wishing he had lingered. Tears streamed down her face as Uktengga’s form disappeared into the sparse forest.

A faint rustling drew closer to Saerah until it startled her, momentarily replacing her overwhelming loss and loneliness with fear.

Uktengga had said that no animal would approach, and she knew from her training as a hunter that this was true, so it could only be someone sneaking up on her.

She crawled toward the kodo, hoping she could hide behind its great bulk and avoid detection. She could not see who or what entered the camp due to her crouched position by the kodo’s hind legs, but she did hear the snuffling of a tracking animal, and closed her eyes, hoping it wouldn’t smell her against the musky, fur-covered kodo.

'Saerah?' she heard a gruff voice call to her mind. 'Where are you?'

She gasped and stood, coming around the kodo’s head.

“Ginta!” she nearly shouted, as the coyote placed his paws on her chest and licked her face. He then sniffed her warily, as though confirming a fear.

'So you have taken a mate, then?' he whispered mentally.

“Well, not exactly,” she said aloud. He shook himself.

'Your scent has accepted his, so you must have accepted him.'

“I… don’t know what you mean…”

'If you didn’t want him, you would smell of him, but not like him. You’ve formed a bond, and you smell like a committed female.'

Saerah digested this information, astonished that her human body was even capable of revealing such things. Of course, now that she considered the matter, she realized that the idea of going off and marrying some unknown human man seemed a cold and empty prospect, but she wasn’t sure yet that she would be able to spend her life with Uktengga, or if he would even want to try.

“I don’t know, Ginta. I don’t even know if he would want me. I’m so… this,” she gestured to herself.

Ginta whined and sat beside her on the ground. Saerah was glad that her nausea had passed, and followed suit. She buried her face in his fur, noting that it was longer than Uktengga’s and bore an undercoat. She had never noticed such things before.

Ginta’s low growl warned her that she would not be alone long, and she gripped the fur at his neck to hold him back as Uktengga burst into the camp, axe at the ready, having heard Ginta’s growel and suspecting the worst.

“It’s okay, my pet found us,” she said quickly.

He did a double-take, then laid his axe across his back and approached cautiously. Ginta’s growls subsided as she mentally connected with her coyote, telling him to stop threatening the man who had saved her life.

“I didn’t know you were a hunter. What’s his name?”

“Ginta. He’s a bit nervous just now.”

Uktengga spoke soothingly in Taur-ahe, and Saerah felt her heart flutter, though she didn’t know what he was saying.

“Can you teach me your language?” she asked suddenly, then blushed. “I mean, you know common so well…”

Uktengga’s face clouded. “I know common because that bastard Forsaken knew common, and it rubbed off when he was inside my head,” his face cleared with an effort, “However, it would be very good to speak my native tongue again, and I am honored you care to know how. I will teach you as we travel, but you should be resting for the moment.”

“Actually, I’m feeling a lot better. Hungry, even.”

Uktengga nodded, smiled, and sat beside her. He had a decently-sized bag full of bread, and handed it to her to look through.

Saerah chose a small loaf of dark brown bread that smelled faintly of figs and tore off a hunk of it before beginning to eat.

Within half an hour, Uktengga had packed up the camp and set Saerah gently on the great kodo’s saddle. He climbed up behind her and they started on their way.

Two hours later, they had a fright.

A male night elf was walking along the road ahead, and it was clear from his expression that his superior eyesight had allowed him to make them out from quite a way off.

“Hail, friends,” he said when close enough, and they could see the tabard of the Cenarion Circle on his chest.

“Hail, friend,” responded Uktengga. 

“Might I ask your business? Do you make for the Cenarion Grove?” he asked, interest obviously piqued.

“We are aimed for Ratchet, eventually, but I was not aware that the Cenarion Circle had holdings in the Desolace.”

The tall elf seemed surprised, but Uktengga explained, “I haven’t been in this part of the world for a long time. I’m very much… uninformed.”

The lavender-skinned man made a noise of understanding, then looked sidelong at Saerah, who blushed.

The elf’s eyes widened fractionally, and he addressed her after a moment of close scrutiny.

“You would do well to carry your burden far from here, madam. The powers that be do not take kindly to new revelations. Elune be with you,” and strode down the road on his way, obviously flustered.

“Cryptic, isn’t he,” said Uktengga, and Saerah sighed.

“Most of them are, from what little I know of them. I wonder what he meant by my ‘burden.’ I have no possessions but my clothes, and I’m not carrying any guilt, or anything. There’s nothing I’ve done that’s wrong.”

“Except accept my friendship. Many people on both sides would see us as traitors, and lay us low if they got the chance.”

Saerah looked contemplative, as though considering whether that might have been what the elf meant. A thought struck her suddenly. “Poor Emmalina, though. Gornk is married, but she can never go back home. I hope she finds a safe place for the baby.”

Uktengga’s hands had frozen on the reins, a stricken look on his face. Tears fell unnoticed through his fur, and Saerah turned around and pressed her face into the fur of his neck, whispering soothing words and stroking his mane.

The kodo, sensing a lack of direction from the reigns, slowed and began to browse the vegetation to their left.

“What is it, Teng?” He covered his broad muzzle with his hands and began to sob.

Saerah stretched her arms up and around his neck and hugged him tightly, shushing and soothing to no avail. Uktengga’s heart had begun to bleed for a reason she could not guess, but she could feel the devastating heartbreak rolling off of him. She pressed her lips to his jaw softly, then rose higher on her knees and kissed the top of his muzzle. He grasped her tightly, clinging to her in desperation.

After several minutes, he quieted, though tears still dropped steadily from his large, expressive eyes. Saerah was stroking his mane, humming softly, and it seemed to have the right effect.

“I’ve not dealt with their deaths as well as I’d thought,” he said quietly.

“The other girls?” She asked. He nodded.

“Five needless deaths, and I had a hand in all of them.”

“I’m not dead, Uktengga, and I’m not going to die any time soon.”

“He shook his head, and she ducked a little lower, wary of his sharp, upright horns.

“One of the women, she was with me for a long time. A dwarf woman. She… we… “ a noise of utter lament ripped itself free of Uktengga’s soul and howled out of his throat.

A few moments later, he said, shakily, “She had a babe. She died from the birth, and the child followed her an hour later. My daughter… “ he sobbed, “She couldn’t breathe… she never ate… she died hungry and without her mother in my arms. She never even squalled. I never heard her voice, she was fighting so hard for air…” his own voice broke.

A breathy, mournful “oh” escaped Saerah, and Uktengga buried his face against her, one of his white horns laid on each of her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Uktengga,” she whispered, tears watering in her eyes.

He pulled back carefully, snuffling. “I gave her mother binding words, wedding vows, when it was clear she was dieing, and sang a death chant to put her spirit to rest, along with our baby,” his eyes closed, “My Ahatah.”

Saerah smoothed her hands over his nose and muzzle, “It wasn’t your fault, Teng.”

“Of course it was!” he snapped, growing suddenly angry. “If she hadn’t had my blood, they’d both still be alive! If her father had been a dwarf, or a human, or even an orc the baby might still be alive!”

Saerah shook her head. “The breathing is the giveaway, Teng. She was born too early. My sister’s a midwife, and she says that if a baby is born just a few weeks too early, it can sometimes cause that to happen. Even a skilled priest with all the right potions is hard pressed to save a premature baby. Eight out of ten of them die, despite every effort made for them.”

Her voice was quiet, regretful, but she was staring into his eyes, her hands holding his face gently. Guilt and sorrow still swam in his eyes, but understanding was slowly slipping in beside them.

“But, what causes babies to come too early?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

Saerah’s frown deepened, “Lots of things can, really. Poor nutrition, trauma or a shock, the mother being too old or too young. Some women are just incapable of carrying a baby to term, and nobody knows why.”

“Trauma… “ he whispered. “So it was my fault… “

“No!” she nearly shouted. “If trauma caused it, it was the fault of that damned bastard that trapped you there! And if he was serving the same stale bread and mouldy cheese then as he did to us, nutrition definitely played a part. You can’t take the blame for that.”

“I always gave her the food, and only ate after I was sure she had gotten enough.”

“Just like you tried to do with me,” said Saerah softly. “But still, just because she got enough to fill her stomach doesn’t mean she got what she needed. A pregnant woman needs fresh meat and vegetables.”

Uktengga seemed to be struggling with instinctual guilt and the knowledge that he couldn’t have done anything more.

“She was really too old, as well. There were lines on her face and her hair was beginning to turn grey beside her ears,” he finally assented. “She was still quite lovely, though I have no idea whether the people of her own race would have considered her thus.”

“You’re the most remarkable man I’ve ever met.”

Uktengga almost huffed a laugh. “Bull. I’m a bull, not a man.”

Saerah pressed her lips to his gently but hungrily. “Whatever you are,” she said when she pulled back, “I love you.”

Uktengga’s wounded heart lifted itself out of despair to regard her. He brushed the backs of his knuckles down her face, wonderingly, then replied, “I love you as well, Saerah of Elwynn Forest.”

He took her shoulders gently in his massive hands, mindful of her still-fresh injuries, and pressed his lips to hers in what he hoped was a fair approximation of what she expected from a kiss. He was wholly surprised when she ran her tongue along the underside of his top lip, but managed not to break the kiss until she pulled back, gasping, and laid the bridge of her nose against his armoured collar bone.

“I’m not sure I need to go to the barrens, anymore,” she said quietly.

“I… I need to seek the counsel of my teachers, Saerah, and I am afraid that you would not be easily welcomed, even if I bound myself to you, unless we publicized what has happened… Could you not stay with your brother for a time, until I can return to claim you?”

Saerah clutched him tightly, then kissed the side of his muzzle. “Do what you need to, Uktengga, and come back to me. There’s not any rush, I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

He tightened his hold on her as much as he dared, knowing she still had scabs and bruises almost everywhere.  
“So, should we see if the people in this grove can get us to Ratchet?” she asked, gesturing at the vegetation around them. The kodo had wandered through the trees, unguided, as they conversed.  
“I’ll have to return the kodo if we do that, but yes. It will make getting to the barrens much easier, and we’ll be safer there.”  
“Should we return the kodo now, and walk back?”  
“No,” he was speaking quietly with his nose buried in her long, black hair. “I’ll take you to the grove, and buy you a room while I do that.”  
“But…”   
“Shh, Saerah. I can move a lot faster than you, without a mount. I’ll be back in a few days, and then we’ll go find your brother. You can stay with him until I am prepared to come back from Mulgore.”  
Saerah hugged him fiercely, the links of his chain mail leaving little indented ridges on her bare arms.  
“I’ll miss you every minute, you know.”  
He lipped her neck, and she drew breath sharply, leaning her head back and baring her throat to him subconsciously.  
His hot breath ghosted over her chilled skin and his prehensile tongue snaked out to trace the shell of her ear. She whispered his name, and her voice held a quiet, breathy moan. He responded by moving his right hand down her back until he held her buttocks firmly in his grip. He gave a little squeeze and said, “Are you sure about this, Saerah? You’ll be an outcast for the rest of your life, if you choose me.”  
“I want you, Teng. I don’t care how far we have to go to find a place we can be, I want you. You’re the only man, the only Bull, I’ve ever cared for. I don’t care what anyone says. My parents will either accept it, or they’ll disown me. Either way, I’ll probably never see them again.”  
Uktengga’s left arm was around her shoulders, and he squeezed her gently as he lipped her neck, her throat, her jaw, and up to her ear lobe.  
“Should we make a camp for the day?” Saerah asked in a whisper as he took her ear into his large, warm mouth and suckeled. He hummed against her skin non-committally.  
“Much as that idea appeals to me, I think you should heal for a few more days before we do that. You haven’t had a break since that first time…” his voice trailed off and she saw shadows of pain flicker behind his eyes.  
“Don’t you dare,” whispered Saerah. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for anything that happened in there.” Tears had started again in her eyes.  
Uktengga let out a frustrated noise, still obviously wrestling with the idea of her acceptance. “I raped you, hurt you, bit you, and still you want me? Why, Saerah?”  
“Because it wasn’t your fault!” she nearly shouted. “And because, because you cared. No one has ever been so gentle with me. I’m not considered very feminine among humans… I’ve always been told I’m too plain, too tall, too determined to be pretty, but when I tried to accept that and go for warrior training they said I was too slight, and put me into a hunter’s role. No man ever wanted me, and I never really wanted any of them. I want someone I can sit next to and not feel like I have to prove myself, or like I’m being measured and found lacking. I found those things with you, Uktengga, and I don’t want anyone else.”  
As she spoke, Uktengga’s eyes told her how much her words moved his soul, and when she told him she wanted him with fierce love burning on her upturned face he threw his doubts to the wind and pressed his lips to hers once more. He brushed the velvety skin of his nose across her jaw, down her neck. His lips caressed her skin, and one of her hands took hold of the fur just behind his ear.  
The kodo beneath them lurched as the fallen log it had tried to step on crumbled beneath it. Uktengga leaned Saerah back over his left arm as he reached forward with his right and reclaimed the reigns.  
“I think you’re right about a camp. Let’s look for a moment and find something relatively private.”  
Saerah looked around, unable to see anyone, and said so.  
“Night Elves have concealment magics far beyond my abilities to see, as do druids or rogues of any race. We’ll need to be careful, especially in groves like this one.”  
Saerah felt suddenly inadequate, realizing that he had ten times more experience in the real world than she did.  
“Don’t worry, it won’t take too long, and we can eat as well, once we’ve found a spot,” said Uktengga, mistaking her reaction.  
Uktengga steered the kodo to a part of the forest where the trees were sparse, and the brush and tall grasses were plentiful. He found several tall bushes growing close together, and pulled on several branches, weaving them into a blind that completely shielded them from view but for a small opening, across which he caused the kodo to rest. He uprooted several plants from the middle of the area he had created, spread their bedrolls on the ground, and then started to build a fire on the far side of her blankets.  
As he was clearing the fire’s bed of all traces of vegetation, Saerah came up next to him, put her hand on his shoulder, hesitated, and then kissed the top of his muzzle. “Don’t you think that could wait?” she asked softly.  
Uktengga smiled wryly at her comment. He turned to her without rising from his knee, and locked her eyes with his, his hands on her shoulders.  
“You’re not the least bit nervous to lay with me?”  
Saerah bit her lip, fighting the urge to look down as she tried to form a response.  
Uktengga’s right forefinger ran from her temple to her lips, shushing her silently as she opened her mouth.  
“That’s what I thought. You’re scared.”  
“I am not scared of you!” she said defensively.  
“I don’t think you’re scared of me. I think you’re scared of what you’re asking for.”  
Saerah’s mouth dropped open in preparation for speech, but her breath shuddered hard as it drew in, and came back out as a quiet sob, and she buried her face against Uktengga’s neck.  
“Don’t push too far, too fast, Saerah. I’ll still be with you when you’re ready for me. And, if you decide to,” he swallowed, “choose another, I’ll…”  
“No!” Saerah jerked back, looking in his eyes and placing her hands on either side of his jaws. “I want you, Uktengga. I want you so badly my heart hurts whenever you’re out of my sight. I’m just… oh, I am scared of it,” she buried her face against him, and he almost missed the rest of her statement. “It hurt so badly, every time, and I know it’s not supposed to but…”  
Uktengga gently shushed her. “It’s fine, I understand now, I think. Have you ever known pleasure, Saerah? Did you ever explore yourself, to see what pleased you?”  
Saerah blushed against his soft fur. “I… I used to… uh... to run my hands up and down my sides. I would close my eyes, and imagine that someone would hold me, close and tight and safe, but… I don’t think that’s the same.”  
Uktengga began stroking her back slowly with one hand, the other holding her close.  
“I could give you that without ever joining with you, Saerah. If you do want more, we could explore and please each other without taking it farther. It’s not all or nothing, as far as sex is concerned, especially in our situation. Most couples explore slowly for months or sometimes even years before they take that final step. Would that help?” He pulled back and looked down at her face.  
Saerah didn’t answer, but relaxed in his embrace, leaning her weight against his solid bulk.  
Uktengga shifted slightly, pulling Saerah off her feet and onto his left knee, his right still on the ground. He kissed the underside of her jaw, then ran his tongue around the shell of her ear. She was shivering, and her breath hitched.  
“I won’t hurt you Saerah, and I won’t go farther than you’re comfortable with going.”  
“Don’t say that, Teng. I want to lay with you. I love you…”  
“But you don’t have to do that so soon…”  
“I can’t wait anymore,” tears welled in her eyes, and he could tell she was holding them back with all her might. “Every hour I wait, I fear it more. Every time I think it’s going to happen, and then it doesn’t, I… I’m always more nervous the next time. I’m growing more and more afraid and I don’t want to fear it any more! All sex has ever given me is pain, Teng, and I don’t want it to be all I’ll ever get. I don’t want to grow so afraid that I won’t be able to go through with it!” She clung valiantly to her tears, her breath stuttering with the effort, until she saw one slide from his eye and down into his fur. Then she buried her face in his neck and wept, letting her fear and pain and anger and sorrow flow out of her in wave after wave of powerful sobs, and he grieved both with her and for what he had done to her. The sun crept along its path, marking time though neither of them noticed.  
“Lie down next to me, Saerah, and we will walk the road of healing together,” came his voice, still thick with tears.  
She slid from his knee, and he stood, divesting himself of his armour until only his loincloth and tunic remained. The air in the grove was slightly warmer than that by the sea, but only slightly.  
“Come to me, Saerah,” his voice was a gentle invitation, and his palms faced out, his arms slightly raised.  
Saerah threw off her cape and boots, and jumped into his arms. He swept her upwards and held her against him, his breath ghosting over her bare shoulder as he held her close. He sat on the combined bedrolls and placed her in his lap, wrapped in his arms.  
“I must admit, I don’t know what humans expect from a partner, and that has made me nervous.”  
Saerah smiled slowly, softly. “I would have that same disadvantage, no matter what sort of man… or bull… I was with. I don’t know what Tauren expect, but all I really care to know is what you expect. I expect only that you will love me, and that you will let me know if I hurt or offend you because that’s not what I’m trying to do.”  
Uktengga nuzzled her neck, brushing his cheek and jaw against the side of her face. “You are truly amazing, Saerah. You have endured more than most cows ever will, and you remain innocent and willing to be vulnerable. Please, do me the same courtesy you have asked for. If I harm or anger you, please let me know immediately. It is my dearest wish to see you happy and well.”  
She placed her hand under his chin and brought his lips to hers, kissing him passionately and sucking on his bottom lip. He brought his hands to her sides and ran his thumbs over her breasts, caressing them gently through the leather of her clothes. Saerah shifted slightly, keeping her lips against his as she pulled her dress up over her hips. Uktengga reached for the hem and lifted, pulling the dress over her head.  
Saerah shivered as the air hit her chest and back, then began to unlace the neck of Uktengga’s tunic. Her movements were unhurried. Uktengga was glad that her fear was not rushing her, but he could both feel and see her fingers trembling with the laces against his chest. He placed his massive hands over hers, stilling her. He grinned softly, then undid two large buttons on each of his shoulders and pulled the sleeveless tunic off over his head.  
Saerah was against him before the fabric cleared his horns, hugging him tightly and inhaling deeply of his scent, her cheek and nose pressed against him. When his head was free he glanced down at her, surprised. He had heard that humans had almost no sense of smell, but she was clearly enjoying whatever she did glean from his scent. He took the opportunity to press his nose to the top of her head and inhale deeply. Her scent had changed subtly from what it had been in their shared cell, and he could only identify some of the reasons due to his unfamiliarity with humans. The sorrow and despair were nearly gone, replaced with contentment, and small hints at insecurity; at least those were the emotions he thought of first when they filled his nostrils. The nuances of her actual emotions would take time for him to sort through, as the scents were not the same as the emotions of a Tauren cow, nor of a Troll, nor of an Orc. He had encountered few blood elves in close enough proximity to gauge them, and even fewer undead. The only one he knew of had stunk with a gagging mixture of death and evil intent.  
Uktengga ran his hands gently over the long scabs on her sides, and slid his tongue over the puncture marks his teeth had left on her. He could not help but feel guilty, no matter what she said, and he realized he had been negligent. Her sides were healing well enough, but the bite mark felt unusually hot, and her flesh had turned dark pink, almost red, around each wound. Judging by the way her breath and scent changed, they likely hurt her quite a bit.  
“Why didn’t you tell me these were beginning to fester?” he scolded lightly.  
“They’re not so bad…”  
“No, they’re not, but they will be if they’re not taken care of. Good thing I got some bandages from the goblin when I bought the bread. I thought you might need them soon. You’ve been incarcerated for a few weeks, and you haven’t… well…”  
Saerah blushed in embarrassment, but nodded. “I was… a late bloomer. I only just started doing that last year, and it’s not regular…” she trailed off, feeling slightly less than adequate. He put his finger beneath her chin and raised her eyes to his.  
“You’ve already proven yourself to me, Saerah. No need for shame. As long as you are an adult…” he paused until she nodded. “You have nothing to worry about. If it continues to worry you, we’ll consult a healer.”  
“How do you always manage to make me feel better?”  
His lips lifted completely away from his sharp teeth in what Saerah realized was the first full-blown smile she had ever seen on him. It might have seemed a frightening snarl if his eyes hadn’t glowed so brilliantly with pride at her question. She smiled back at his sudden, infectious joy.  
After a moment, Uktengga’s smile faded. “ I’ll need to cleanse those wounds before I apply the bandages, or it’ll do no good.”  
Saerah let out a frustrated sound. “Every time, delays. I thought you understood. Can’t we…”  
“As soon as they have been cleansed. I intend to take my time with our coupling. A maiden’s first experience should be careful and luxurious, and you were denied that. I intend to give it to you now.”  
Saerah opened her mouth to reply hotly, but as his words sunk in, a blush crept up her face.  
Uktengga’s lips found Saerah’s and lingered gently for a moment before pulling away as he stood. He went to the packs that had been piled next to where the kodo lay contentedly, chewing her cud.  
He removed a water flask, then reached into another pouch and pulled out several heavy bandages made of mageweave cloth.  
Uktengga built up the fire as Saerah huddled in the blankets on their combined bedrolls. He heated the water until it steamed, then dabbed it onto a bandage to better release the salve that was contained within. He rinsed her wounds next to the fire, then wrapped the bandage over her shoulder and under her arm to secure it.  
“Wow, that really does feel better. The linen bandages my sister taught me to make barely seem to make a difference.”  
Uktengga nodded, “The art of first aid is more complex than most people think. The type of cloth, and what poultice is infused into it, are both important. They can be as effective as potions. Though they do take a bit longer to work, a potion will do nothing to cure an infection. I find it useful to use both.”  
“Are you an alchemist?” Saerah asked curiously. “I’ve never known a warrior who gathered herbs and made potions.”  
He nodded, “It is a common combination among my people. I can make potions not only to heal, but to increase strength, stamina, restore magical energy, and even allow someone to breath underwater for short periods.”  
Saerah smiled sheepishly. “All I do is gut animals and use their skins for making things,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.  
“That, too, is noble. You make sure that the sacrifice of the animals you kill is not made in vain. By eating their meat and wearing their hide, we honor their memory and their lives.” Uktengga watched as Saerah’s eyes lit with pride and gratitude at his words. She leaned toward him, and he felt her fingers sliding through the fur on his chest as her lips met his.  
He sat on the ground, one hock under the other knee, and she kneeled in front of him. The bandages on her shoulder did nothing to obscure her bare chest, and his own arousal was just beginning to cause the sheath below his loincloth to distend.  
Her breathing had quickened, and he could smell what he had identified before as insecurity. He quickly realized by the way her fingers were trembling in his coat that he had misidentified the scent. He realized that the spicy, slightly sour scent was fear, and it was growing rapidly. The arousal that had begun deep in his loins died a quick and brutal death.  
He placed his right hand behind her head, his left across her back, and pulled her gently into his lap. “You’re terrified,” he said gently, his heartache plain in his expressive eyes.  
“I’m determined,” she replied. Uktengga was impressed that her voice was strong.  
He pressed the side of his face down and against hers. “Do you trust me, Saerah?” She nodded. “Do you believe I’ll stop, if you don’t like what I’m doing?” Another nod. “Do you know, Saerah, that you are more dear to me than my life? That I love you with the whole of my soul, and I will be yours for as long as I breath?”  
His words, spoken in his soft, deep voice, caused Saerah to clutch desperately at his fur, and she pressed herself into his chest. He wasn’t sure if she was shaking from tears, gratitude, or fear, but at last she said, “Yes, Uktengga. I know, and I love you. Take me, please. Show me what I’ve missed, and teach me what you want.”  
He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I will Saerah, but you must let me. Lie back, now, and relax. I will give you the option to deny me before I join with you. Just now, I wish to explore.”  
When she lay on her back, looking up at him, he kneeled at her side and placed his left hand on the ground near her head. With his other, he caressed her in one bold, gentle stroke from her cheek to her toes, missing her breasts and womanhood. She giggled, ticklish, and he smiled.  
He lifted her right leg and began to massage her bare foot and calf, never venturing to her knee. He could tell she was puzzled, but she said nothing, studying him in the bright afternoon light.  
After some time, he switched to her other leg, and she began to relax, enjoying the gentle undulation of his large, velvety fingers on her bare skin.  
When he had finished with her legs, he lifted her arm and began to massage her palm with his thumb, slowly working from there to her shoulder, and repeating the process on the other side.  
“If you keep that up, I’ll be asleep before long,” she said in a soft, lilting voice.  
“Then you have relaxed well. Good.” He continued his gentle massage, moving slowly across and down until he was caressing her breasts. Her breath quickened again, but although a slight hint of her fear returned it was overshadowed by a scent Uktengga had no trouble identifying as arousal. “Trust me, dear one. I will not hurt you,” he whispered. His feather-light touch roamed across the skin of her chest and abdomen, and then he ran his second finger along the seam of her breeches, back and forth for several seconds. Finally, Saerah understood, and she nodded at him, lifting her hips slightly. He gently peeled the cloth away, leaving her completely nude before him. She blushed, and lifted her knees slightly to cover herself, but Uktengga shifted so that he was kneeling by her ankles, facing her prone body with his own. He gently caught her calves, massaging them softly but firmly as he attempted to calm her anxiety.  
“Relax, we are not there yet,” he said in a gentle tone.  
“I’m nervous, but I… I want this,” she had covered her mouth with the back of her hand, and Uktengga smiled at her irrational bashfulness. He brought her right foot up and blew hot, dry air from his nostrils, causing goosebumps to erupt across her skin at the sudden change in temperature, and she gasped softly.  
Uktengga began to lick and kiss at her foot, ankle, shin, knee. When he reached a spot high on her inner thigh, she whimpered. He placed his hands firmly on each of her legs and pulled gently.  
She didn’t resist, spreading her legs at his behest. Uktengga continued up her thigh with his mouth, and then began to lick and suckle at her womanhood. She keened loudly, her head thrashing to both sides as he increased the speed of his gentle assault.  
Saerah’s breathy voice attempted to form words, but each stuttering syllable ended with ecstatic gasps as she writhed, bucking helplessly as wave after wave of blinding pleasure washed over her. Sparks of electricity popped erratically in her vision, and she seemed both deaf and blind as she screamed softly, her body taut as a young sapling.  
Uktengga ceased his suckeling and began to probe gently into her with his long tongue. He placed his large index finger firmly but gently on her clitoris and moved it slowly in tiny circles as he stroked within her with his tongue. Just as Saerah was beginning to come down from her first orgasm she was swept up again by the double-assault.  
When she was finally able to breath again, she had to backpedal away from his tongue and finger.  
Terror gripped Uktengga’s heart as he sprang away from her recoil. “I hurt you…” he whispered in horror.  
Saerah shook her head vehemently, “No… Oh Light, no. I was… I just… It was so… Intense,” a long, low moan escaped her lips as she shuddered again, losing her train of thought for a moment.  
She gasped, saying, “Wow, aftershocks. I didn’t think she was telling the truth.”  
Uktengga was inching back towards her, no longer panicked but still unsure of her reactions. “Aftershocks?” He asked, testing the unfamiliar word.  
Saerah nodded. “My sister. She said the first few times, or when it’s really, really good, she has little mini-orgasms for an hour or two afterward. I thought sheeeeee…. Was lying.” Saerah shuddered and almost lost her train of thought once again. “You’re amazing,” she breathed, locking her eyes with his. A tiny smirk played across his lips at the compliment, and she could see him stand a little straighter. “I don’t think I’ll ever be more ready for you, Teng. Come to me.” She whispered. “Show me the rest.”  
They met back at the bedroll, her arms resting on his and his hands on her back. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of her orgasm and feeling it stir his own arousal.  
Uktengga lowered himself over her, blowing hot air along her neck and ear as he settled above her. “Are you ready?” He asked, despite her former claim.  
Saerah nodded, pressing her body up to his in instinctual desire, feeling at home for the first time in months.  
Uktengga pressed the side of his face against Saerah’s, and his mouth suckeled at the hollow of her uninjured neck and shoulder as he lined himself up to her. He felt her run her feet up the backs of his legs until they curled around his hips, then tilt her pelvis until he was pressed against her entrance. Uktengga lifted his right arm and cradled Saerah’s head as he slowly began to rock his hips, dipping inch by inch within her as she slowly relaxed into the gentle motions.  
She was meeting him, thrusting herself up as he pushed down, working in until he felt the end of her. Her breath came in pants, then became low, deep moans as he bumped her cervix gently with every stroke. She could take all but about two inches of him, and he reveled in the feel of controlling his own body, keeping the pace slow and luxurious even as she began to breath his name into his furry chest.  
Slowly, inexorably, the sensations built within Saerah until her eyes dropped closed, her head thrown back and her throat bared as she enjoyed the pace set by the Bull above her.  
Uktengga watched Saerah’s body beneath him, reveling in her reactions. Her fear was obviously gone, and as he watched, fascinated, she coiled like a spring beneath him.  
All at once, Saerah arched up, her head and elbows the only parts of her that touched the ground, and a wailing scream ripped itself free of her throat.  
Uktengga’s eyes were forced closed as she gripped him, he had never experienced a woman’s orgasm before and found it delicious. His movements stilled as he found his own climax, compelled by her response to his touch.  
Slowly, they relaxed. Taut, straining muscles released and seemed to turn into jelly. Uktengga allowed himself to flop bonelessly next to Saerah’s prone form as she stared blankly at the sky. She ran her fingers through the soft fur of his shoulder and shivered, still hyper-sensitive to touch.  
Uktengga brought her cloak over her body, covering her against the chill, and embraced her as they lay together.  
Saerah fell into a contented sleep not long after, but Uktengga watched her face as the sun crept slowly across the sky.


End file.
